


I'd Taps That

by herecomesbucktofuckshitup



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky Likes Steve's Authority, Drunk Dialing, Implied Alexander Pierce Jackassary, M/M, Meet Cute- Military Funeral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 08:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herecomesbucktofuckshitup/pseuds/herecomesbucktofuckshitup
Summary: “This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army as a token of appreciation for your father's honorable and faithful service.”He recited this solemnly and Bucky let him place the flag in his hands. “Yeah.” He sighed, looking at the guy. He was younger than the authority made him seem, and his eyes held a kindness that stirred something in Bucky. “Thanks,” he added, mustering a smile.





	

Bucky never understood what was supposed to be comforting about military funerals. The last thing he needed was throngs of large men wielding guns while staring him down next to an open grave.

Bucky swallowed, bracing himself. He got out of the car, not meeting the Honor Guard’s gaze. Natasha was with him, holding his arm. They walked carefully, stepping over headstones and flowers.

When his father learned of his diagnosis, he had set out to plan his own funeral. He wanted it to be elaborate, extravagant, elegant. He picked out the flower arrangements, the church, the choir, he even wrote his own eulogy.

When he died, Bucky put together a quick graveside service.

The military honors hadn't been his idea.

In a way, he loved his father’s cancer. How it ate away at him until there was nothing left. It felt like justice, or at least retribution. In a way he hated it. He hated having to take care of the man who had never done the same for him. He hated the cancer for doing what he was to cowardly to do.

Natasha lead him to the makeshift tent. The wind was blowing her dress around wildly, but somehow left her hair alone. It was as if she'd were some angel of death, setting the path for him.

They sat in the front, and Bucky could feel the eyes on the back of his head. The flag-wrapped coffin like some glaring monument to the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The minister walked behind it, clearing his throat and looking at the assembled crowd. He tapped on the podium microphone and winced at the sound of feedback.

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Bucky fought the urge to scoff. Alexander Pierce had never been religious. The hallmark card sentiment was interesting but incorrect. Bucky thought the dishonesty was fitting.

When the minister was done with his pocket platitudes, he glanced at the mourners, zeroing in on Bucky.

“Would anyone like to say a few words?” The man asked, and Bucky shook his head. He had nothing to say. He was cold, he was tired, and he was ready to put his father in the ground.

“Very well,” the minister said, and nodded towards a man in a uniform.

He was tall, and extremely handsome. A chiseled jaw, a well-built frame, serious blue eyes, and mouth that seemed used to smiling. He filled out the uniform like he was made for it, and Bucky couldn't help but lust over him.

He spoke a command, and five other soldiers appeared, almost as if summoned. They surrounded the casket and lifted the flag.

“Stars over stripes.” The attractive leader said, and they proceeded to ceremoniously fold the flag. Every move was precise and exact, almost as if it were being shaped at the hands of machines and not people.

When the flag was in the traditional tri-cornered fold, the leader walked over to Bucky and knelt before him. “This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army as a token of appreciation for your father's honorable and faithful service.”  

He recited this solemnly and Bucky let him place the flag in his hands. “Yeah.” He sighed, looking at the guy. He was younger than the authority made him seem, and his eyes held a kindness that stirred something in Bucky. “Thanks,” he added, mustering a smile.

The man nodded and stood, going back to the other soldiers. Without prompting, they marched away while he stood behind, at the foot of the now bare casket. Bucky watched the precise way he moved, wondered if he was that controlled in bed, wondered what it would take to make him lose that control.

“Please rise for the presenting of military honors.” The man said, and Bucky stood, glancing over to where the other soldiers had gathered in the field. They each held a rifle. They marched in place, cocked their guns, and turned.

The first shot of the three-volley salute made Bucky flinch. Natasha wasn't unaffected either, squeezing his arm at the noise. The second shot still caught him off guard, but he only jumped slightly as they fired. By the third shot, he was steady.

A lone horn player stood in the distance, and Taps began playing as the coffin was lowered into the ground.

Bucky sighed in relief as the song finished and Alexander was out of sight. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt Natasha rub her thumb gently over his forearm.

People started leaving, and Bucky watched them go, unfamiliar with most of them. Once almost everybody was cleared out, Bucky glanced behind himself, still feeling that weary sense of being watched. There was a man standing a little ways back from the tent, wearing a trench coat and sunglasses, even though it was overcast.

Nick. Bucky assumed he was the one responsible for all this military pomp and circumstance. He caught Bucky’s eye and nodded, then disappeared back through the graveyard.

He turned back around to see Natasha’s mouth forming a thin line. “Let's go get drunk.”

“Good call.” Bucky said, then the blue of a uniform caught his eye. “Hey, Tash? How inappropriate would it be if I got the number of that Honor Guard guy?”

“Very.” She said, dry humor in her voice.

“Excellent.” He handed her the folded flag and headed purposefully for the field where the man was standing.

Bucky tucked his hands in his pockets and watched as the man collected bullet shells from the earth. It took a few moments for the man to realize Bucky was standing there, but when he did, he shot to attention.

“Oh.” Bucky said, startling. “Uh. I just wanted to thank you for the whole,” Bucky waved his hand at the graveyard. “Thing.”

“Well, it was an honor. I hope we did your father justice.” The man said, all formality.

“Yeah.” Bucky said. “He would've loved it.” He couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. He was sure is forced smile was starting to look like a grimace.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” the man said, and it looked like he wanted to say something more, but changed his mind.

“Sure, look,” Bucky sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Me?” The guy looked startled by the question. “Rogers. Captain Steve Rogers.”

“Look, Steve. Are you doing anything after this?”

The guy- Steve-  just blinked.

“Natasha and I, Natasha’s that redhead over there, we’re going out for drinks. Wanna come with?”

“Come with?” Steve repeated, and Bucky was starting to wonder if the man’s attractiveness and authority was worth the trouble.

“Yes. Come with me. For drinks.” Bucky said slowly, and he could've sworn he saw the esteemed Captain Rogers roll his eyes.

“Are you asking me on a date you while your girlfriend is 20 yards away?” Steve asked, eyebrow cocked.

“I’m asking you if you want to watch me and _my sister_ get drunk and maybe come to mine after.” Bucky wet his lips in a way he knew to be attractive. He felt a small spike of smugness when he watched Captain Rogers track the movement.

He seemed to shake himself out of it and squared his jaw. “It would be unprofessional.” He said, and Bucky blew out a gusty sigh.

“Yeah, thought it was a long shot, anyway. Have a nice night, Steve.” He gave a half-assed salute and walked back toward the tent.

 

He and Natasha went to a dark bar that smelled like vomit and booze, but had really cheap drinks if you smiled at the bartender just right. Natasha and Bucky hustled a couple biker guys out of a few hundred dollars at the pool table, won a drinking contest against some frat boys, raised a toast to cancer, bought shots for the whole bar, tried to think of ways to piss off Alexander’s ghost, and went through their contacts, trying to find a proper booty call for the both of them.

Natasha’s list consisted of: Clint (cute but dumb, very flexible), Sam (sweet, great in bed, bad at the whole “friends with benefits” thing), Sharon (sexy, but one of those lesbians who hates bisexuals), Matt (blind, masochistic, hot as hell), Brian (British, pretty hot, but not as hot as his sister), Betsy (British, hot, weird about the Brian thing), and Bruce (smart, huge dick, no self-confidence).

Bucky’s list was much more depressing: Tony (asshole), Jack (asshole) Brock (such a fucking asshole), and T’Challa (not a total asshole, but possibly out of the country).

They gave up around 1 am, and Bucky started wistfully thinking about the Honor Guard guy and how hot he looked in his uniform.

“Tasha, he was just so hot,” Bucky whined, putting his head on the bar. Natasha winced and slid a napkin between Bucky’s face and the grimy wood.

“Yeah, he was.” Natasha agreed, unhelpfully.

“I wanna rub my face all over his face.” Bucky grumbled and Natasha nodded, taking a sip of her beer.

“You should call him.” The bartender said, pouring Bucky another drink.

“And he was so nice,” Bucky sighed. “Well, not really; but I could tell that he was a nice person. Like, in his eyes and stuff.”

“Why haven’t you called him?” Natasha asked, starting to frown.

“I didn’ get his number.” Bucky said, taking another sip of whatever it was he was drinking. “He said it wasn’t ‘propriate. I guess since we were at dad’s funeral an’, an’ stuff.”

“You have his number.” Natasha insisted. She grabbed his phone and started scrolling through it.

“No, I don’.” Bucky told her, sitting up. “Wait, do I?”

“Yeah, yeah, remember?” Natasha said, gesturing wildly. “You had to call him. Or he had to call you. To set up the thing with the guns and the flag.”

“Oh!” Bucky said, gray mood disappearing. “Yeah!”

Natasha turned his phone around and he saw the contact information with the name “ _Asshole Military Guy_ ” and a number.

“Imma call him.” Bucky grabbed his phone. “No, wait. I’ll text him.”

He fumbled with the keyboard, but they letters were too small and the screen was too bright. “No, Imma call him.”

“No, no, no, no” Natasha took the phone out of his hands. “You don’t wanna do that right now. Call him in the, y’know,” She waved a hand. “Tomorrow.”

Bucky nodded. “Good plan.”

The bartender called them a cab and they went back to Bucky’s apartment. Natasha paid the fare for his ride, then told the cabbie her address, kissing him on the cheek in farewell.

“He’s gone now, James.” She whispered in his ear, holding him close. He nodded, feeling her hair against his skin. She kissed his cheek again and handed him back his phone.

 

Bucky stumbled up the stairs to his place and fumbled with the keys, finally managing to push his way inside. He collapsed on his couch and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through Grindr, grimacing at the slim pickings. One guy sent him a weak “ _hey ;)”._ With a picture of a hard dick. It's wasn't terrible, and Bucky was considering messaging him back when he was sent another picture.

It was a basic headless torso, with great shoulders and washboard abs, something Bucky’s seen a thousand times. But for some reason, it made him think of Captain Rogers.

He clicked out of the app and opened up his contacts. It had to be in there somewhere. Finally he found the one Natasha had showed him. “ _Asshole Military Guy”_

The pressed the number and listened to the line ring. He got so caught up in the sound that it took him a second to realize that someone had answered.

 _“-lo?”_  The voice was gruff, but not sleepy. It was incredibly sexy.

“This Captain Steve Rogers?” Bucky purred, or tried to purr.

 _“.... yes? Who is this?”_ The voice asked, sounding wary.

“‘M Bucky.” Bucky sighed, opening his legs a little. He was just getting comfortable.

 _“Bucky?”_ Captain Steve Rogers repeated.

“Yeah, from th’, the, funny- the funnel- the funeral. Earlier today.” Bucky clarified.

 _“No, I remember…”_ Steve told him, and Bucky grinned victoriously. Captain Steve Rogers, the hot hottie, remembered him. _“Bucky, listen, how much have you had to drink?”_

“Mmm, lots.” Bucky groaned.

_“Is there anyone there with you?”_

“What, wanna come over?” Bucky smirked, adding; “My face?”

There was a choking sound on the other line. _“I need you to listen to me. Can you listen to me?”_

“Mm, sir yes sir.” Bucky said, saluting nothing. “You're audi, you sound authory- comam, you're condam- you sound hot.”

 _“Yes, Bucky, I'm very authoritative. It's literally my job.”_ Steve’s voice sounded dry.

“Business can be, be pleasure, Steve.” Bucky said, palming his crotch.

 _“Stop that.”_ Steve snapped, and he really did sound commanding. Bucky pulled his hand away like something had burned him.

“Sorry.” Bucky mumbled, feeling himself flush.

 _“It's okay. Now, are you home?”_ Steve asked, and Bucky nodded. _“Are you nodding?”_

“Mmhm.” Bucky said.

 _“Okay I want you to go to your kitchen.”_ Bucky grunted as he stood, walking to his kitchen.

“Okay, I made it.” Bucky said, looking around.

 _“I want you to pour yourself a glass of water.”_ Steve commanded. Bucky grabbed one of the plastic cups from his sink and turned on the tap, filling the cup with water.

“Okay, now what?”

_“Drink it, Bucky.”_

“Oh, right.” Bucky said, and stared into his cup. He sipped the water, then realized how thirsty he was, and began guzzling down the drink. Water dribbled down his chin and neck, wetting the collar of his nice funeral shirt. He filled up the cup again and drank some more water, listening to Steve’s praise

 _“That's good, Bucky. Good job.”_ Steve said, voice soothing.

“You’re good at this,” Bucky observed, and he could almost hear Steve’s smile.

 _“Thanks,”_ He said, laughter in his voice. _“Do you have any Ibuprofen, Advil?”_

“I have oxy,” Bucky told him, and there was judgmental silence over the line. Bucky burst out laughing. “Relax, Captain Tight-Ass. It’s for my shoulder.”

_“Just drink you damn water, Pierce.”_

The sound of the name soured Bucky’s drunken giddiness. “It’s Barnes, actually.”

_“Oh. I thought you were Senator Pierce’s son.”_

“‘M adopted. Senator Pierce,” The name tasted awful in his mouth. “needed a coupla kids to make it look like he was a family man. With values and morals, and that sorta thing. One sec,” He dropped his phone and vomited into the sink.

 _“Bucky are you okay?”_ He heard and he waved at the phone, trying to assure Steve; who wasn’t even there. Because Bucky was by himself, drunk, on a Friday night. He couldn’t even find somebody who could stand him long enough to fuck him, so he had to bother some stranger because he had smiled at him.

 _“Bucky, Buck, listen to me.”_ Steve said, voice calm and authoritative. _“Breathe, okay? Inhale: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Great, that’s great. Now exhale. 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Again. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…”_

Bucky slid to the floor, clutching his phone and listening to Steve count.

Eventually, he calmed down enough to feel strangled. He wrenched off his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. “Fuck.” He sighed, knuckling away the tears collecting the corners of his eyes. “Fuck you, I feel sober.”

 _“I promise that you’re not.”_ Steve chuckled.

“You’re probably right.” The room was still tilting slightly. “Hey, why are you awake? It's like, the fucking witch hour, man.”

 _“I get nightmares sometimes.”_ Steve confided.

“About the war?” Bucky asked, and then caught himself. “Fuck, that was really fucking insensitive, I’m so sorry, I’m an asshole.”

 _“Yeah, about the war.”_ Steve said, a smile still in his voice. _“Don’t worry, I’ve heard a lot worse.”_

“Like earlier, when I asked if you wanted to come on my face?” Bucky asked frankly, and Steve barked out a surprised laugh.

 _“I meant assholes being insensitive and asking stupid questions. But, yeah that wasn’t… expected.”_ Steve answered and Bucky snorted.

“Sorry, if you’re like; straight. Or not interested.” Bucky sighed. “I’m really aggressively horny when I’m drunk. And to be fair, you’re like, really, really hot.”

 _“No, I-I am.”_ Steve said.

“Straight?” Bucky asked.

_“Hah, no. I mean, I’m not.”_

“Interested.” Bucky joked.

 _“I’m not straight, and I am interested.”_ Steve answered.

Bucky grinned. “Good to hear. Would’ve been better if you had said so before I got drunk with my sister and threw up into my kitchen sink.”

 _“I don’t pity fuck.”_ Steve said bluntly. _“And I don't take advantage of cute drunk boys.”_

“Even when they call you, practically begging for it?” Bucky asked.

 _“Even then.”_ Steve said, sounding bereft.

“How about tomorrow, for coffee?” Bucky tried, then banged his head against the kitchen counter.

 _“Maybe.”_ Steve said, sounding coy. _“If you listen to what I say.”_

“Oh, I’m listening.” Bucky told him, smirking.

 _“Stand up,”_ He said, and Bucky struggled to his feet.

“I’m up.” Bucky grunted, swaying slightly.

 _“Drink another glass of water.”_ He commanded and Bucky turned on the tap, filling up his cup and obeying.

When Bucky reported that he’d finished, Steve made an approving sound. _“Now go to your bedroom.”_

“I like where this is going.” Bucky, letting the wall support him on his journey.

 _“Don’t get too excited.”_ Steve told him.

“I’ll save that for when you’re here,” Bucky said, trying to sound sexy, but probably only sounding nauseous.

_“You do that.”_

Bucky miraculously made it to his room, heat flushing throughout his body when Steve tells him to _“Strip.”_

“If you say so, Captain.” Bucky agreed, fumbling with his buttons. He stripped to his boxer briefs.”Now what.”

 _“Get into bed.”_ Steve purred, and Bucky jumped into his bed, burrowing under the sheets.

“Mm,” Bucky groaned, then yawned. “God, I wish I could think of something witty and sexy to say to you, but I’m suddenly exhausted.”

 _“Glad to hear it.”_ Steve told him, sounding genuinely happy that Bucky was going to get some sleep.

“Will you-” Bucky started, then stopped, feeling stupid.

 _‘What is it, Buck?”_ Steve asked, voice gentle.

“Just, will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?” Bucky asked, feeling young and vulnerable.

 _“Of course.”_ Steve said.

“Thanks.” Bucky whispered.

Bucky laid like that, listening to the soft breathing on the other line. He drifted off to sleep like that, feeling warm and comfortable for the first time since he got the call that Alexander died.

 

He woke the next morning, sore and hating himself, but amazingly well-rested. He glanced at his phone to see that he was still on the call, racking up an impressive 9 hours and 13 minutes. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear, hearing the soft snores of deep sleep. He smiled to himself and ended the call.

He made himself some tea and cleaned up his kitchen, then called his lawyers to schedule a meeting to go over the details of Alexander’s will. To be honest, Bucky doesn’t want a thing of Alexander’s. But if the bastard left him and Nat anything, it could really go a long way for Natasha’s foundation. With that kind of money, she could really help a lot of people. Plus, it could help him buy some new shoes.

At around noon, his phone dinged, and a smile appeared on his face before he even looked at his phone.

 

**_Asshole Military Guy_ **

_That was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. Thx -SGR_

 

**_Asshole Military Guy_ **

_You still wanna meet up for coffee today?_

 

**_Me_ **

_i’d love to. u kno the place on nevins and atlantic?_

 

**_Captain Steve Rogers <3 _ **

_Yeah, sounds great! See you at 1?_

 

**_Me_ **

_can’t wait :)_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Your kudos throw dirt on Alexander Pierce's grave, your comments listen to Bucky fall asleep.


End file.
